Lost & Found (22 page)

No, no, no. This should not be happening. The thought intruded into her foggy brain. But dear God, it felt so, so good.

“No,” she managed to moan, pulling her mouth away from his warm, wet one. “Mitch. This is wrong…”

“Christ, Kerri,” he muttered, burying his face into her neck, breathing deeply. “Christ.”

Her hands stilled on his shoulders as she felt him regaining some control, then she pushed hard and wriggled out from under his weight. She scrambled away from him on her hands and knees, half afraid he was going to grab her again, but he didn’t. He lay there, one arm covering his eyes, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths.

She sat on the floor, trembling. She put her fingers to her mouth and stared at Mitch in shock, unable to formulate any words. What had just happened?

Finally Mitch spoke. “Jesus, Kerri, I’m sorry,” he ground out.

“You damn well better be!”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “You pushed my buttons…you just kept at it and I just…lost it.”

“But, Mitch…”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Anger flared in her, hot fury that he would do that, that he would jeopardize their friendship like that, that he would actually use her like that—and he was her best friend!

She jumped to her feet and rubbed her hands over her face. She twisted her hands together. Then she went over and punched his shoulder, as hard as she could.

“Ow!” He was totally unprepared, eyes still covered, and he jerked up. “What the hell was that? Jesus!

“You stupid, horny idiot! What the hell do you think you were doing? You’re supposed to be my friend!”

Not everyone has to go looking for love…for a lucky few, love finds them.

Shelter From the Storm

© 2010 Samantha Sommersby

In any other circumstance, Jennifer Jones’s first meeting with Maclain Moore would have been called serendipity, a happy coincidence. She’s looking for a new roommate; he’s looking for a place to live. It doesn’t hurt that he’s sexy as hell, either.

But the man who crosses her threshold isn’t there to sign on the dotted line—he’s the bearer of news bad enough to shake the very foundation of her life. A life built around a fierce sense of independence, born of a violent incident from her past.

Mac is no stranger to heartache. His career in social work immerses him in it, plus he has his own share of skeletons rattling around in his closet. His attempts to comfort Jennifer bring the two of them closer together. With each touch, she becomes harder to resist. Mac’s body’s response would try the patience of a saint. And a saint he’s not.

Baring her soul isn’t high on her list, but she finds herself opening up to Mac in ways that make it hard to hold him at arm’s length. And as her life spins out of control, their growing passion becomes the only tangible thing she can cling to…

This book has been previously published and has been revised and expanded from its original release.

Warning: This book may spoil you for real relationships. It contains a beautiful woman with a dark and dangerous past, sensational sailboat sex and a leather-wearing, motorcycle-riding man who loves kids, knows how to cook and actually listens.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Shelter From the Storm:

“One failed relationship and you’re willing to throw in the towel?” Mac climbed onto the bed and leaned back, resting comfortably on his elbows. “You’ve got to tell me why?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do. We’re friends, first and foremost. As your friend, I deserve an explanation.”

Jennifer frowned. “Could you put a shirt on for the rest of this conversation?”

Mac looked down at his six-pack abs and smiled. “No. But I wouldn’t mind if you evened the score and took off your nightgown.”

Jennifer realized that was all she was wearing. Her nipples were hard and peaked and embarrassingly visible through the sheer silk fabric. She blushed. “I need to get a robe.”

“You don’t need to run away and you don’t need a robe.”

Jennifer glanced toward the door.

Mac sighed dramatically. “I’m not going to ravage you.”

“Ravage me? Have you been reading those bodice rippers again?”

“Ha-ha. Come on, out with it. Let me hear the details.”

“Details?”

“Your dating and sexual history. I want to understand what I’m getting into here.”

“You’re not getting into anything.”

He patted the space on the bed beside him.

Jennifer shook her head. “I so don’t remember agreeing to anything.”

“You will. It’s only a matter of time. I’m irresistible.”

“I think you mean irrepressible.”

“That too.”

“You know?” Jennifer feigned a yawn. “I’m not sure I’m up to this tonight. I think I’m going to turn in.” Her gaze returned to the door.

Mac stood and began to pull down the covers. “You win. No sex. No talking. No pressure. Stay.”

“What?”

“Stay here with me.”

“You mean sleep with you in your bed?”

“I want to be close to you.”

Jennifer shook her head. “Not a good idea. You know it isn’t.”

Mac grinned widely “You don’t trust yourself. See, I told you, irresistible.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his confidence. “You’re a hard man to say no to.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. The evidence of his arousal was pressing against her. “I’m hard, I’ll give you that. You seem to have that affect on me. But I also know how to control myself.”

“Even that dark side?”

“The idea that I might lose control scares you.”

“It thrills me and that scares me. I made a mistake once. I can’t afford to make that kind of mistake again. I’m not sure I could survive it.” Jennifer stared into his deep blue eyes. “Goodnight, Mac.”

“Goodnight.”

She pulled herself from his embrace and headed for the door. As she placed her hand on the doorknob, he softly said, “This wouldn’t be a mistake. Give this a chance.”

“I’ve given myself to someone before. Completely. It wasn’t enough. Not enough to keep him.”

“I’m not him. I’m me.”

“What I have to offer will never be enough, not for anyone. I’m…empty inside.”

“You’re not empty. I’ve seen glimpses of the girl inside. You’re more than window dressing.” He was standing right behind her now. “You’re just closed off from trying to protect yourself.”

Jennifer turned back around and leaned against the door. “Protect myself from what?”

“From having to face your demons, whatever they may be. Because if you do, really do, you have to admit it could all change. And that’s terrifying beyond belief.”

Her mouth was suddenly dry. She licked her lips.

Mac placed a hand on either side of her head and leaned in, until his forehead touched hers. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he whispered. Seconds ticked away. He slowly lowered his hands until they rested comfortably on her waist. Their breathing became synchronized.

She closed her eyes and felt him, drinking in his scent, allowing the tenderness of the moment to surround her. She let go, if only for a moment, relinquishing control. She permitted him to lead. The pace of his inhalations became deeper, more impassioned. A soft moan escaped her lips. Her resolve was crumbling. She placed her hand, hesitantly, on his forearm.

Mac kissed her on the forehead, then pulled back. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight?”

“Go off to your room and go to sleep, like a good girl. You don’t want me turning into the big bad wolf.”

“Would you eat me?” Jennifer looked up at him, her voice carrying a tone of feigned innocence.

Mac placed his hands on the door above her head, pinning her in. “You know? That was plain mean. I’m never going to sleep now. I’ll be up all night with visions of… You have an evil streak, Jennifer Jones!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” He opened the door and stepped back. “And I swear, if you offer to let me spank you for punishment I’m going to totally lose it.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what possessed me.”

“Maybe unresolved sexual tension so thick I can taste it from the next room?”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Mac.” She left, closing the door quietly behind her.

“One, two, three…fuck it.” Mac yanked the door open. She was halfway down the hall. In two strides he was on her. He grabbed hold of her hand, yanked her toward him and backed her up against the wall, one hand around her waist, the other around her neck.

“Mac—”

He crushed his lips to hers in a breath-stealing kiss. He didn’t try to hide his arousal. He didn’t try to hold back. He was tired of holding back. He wanted to let go. He wanted her to let go.

Jennifer’s hands flew up and tangled in his hair.

Mac needed her to know what she did to him, how she affected him, to feel the power she had over him. He tilted his pelvis so his erection pressed against her soft stomach. It made her gasp. He took immediate advantage, boldly slipping his tongue inside, letting is curl around hers. She was delicious. Her mouth was warm, wet, and oh-so-amazingly-sweet.

As soon as he tasted her, he knew she had been right. He wanted her, all of her. There was no hesitancy, no doubt, no denial. It was about a need that was almost primal. He thought of himself as civilized and sensitive. But here he was, wanting to mark, possess, consume her. No. Holds. Barred. He pulled back abruptly.

Her hair was mussed. Her eyes were wide. Whether from arousal, fear or a combination of both, he didn’t know. In the dim light of the hallway, he could see her lips were red and full from his assault.

“You’re right,” Mac admitted, turning away from her.

Still panting she reached out to touch him. “About?”

He drew back. “I want to make you mine.”

Sadness filled her eyes.

He couldn’t help himself. His hand lifted and caressed her cheek. “If I were to be perfectly honest I would tell you I’ve thought of little else since I saw you in that elevator.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m probably no different than any other wanker you’ve ever dated, or slept with.” He took a fortifying breath before saying what needed to be said. “If you want me to move out, I will.”

“If I let you stay, are you going to attack me in the hallway again?”

He stepped back, breaking all contact.

“Mac?”

He looked her in the eye. “You didn’t push me away. You kissed me back. I wouldn’t have forced—”

Jennifer held up her hand. “I know. Now, it’s my turn to be honest. I needed that kiss. I wanted it, as much as you did. What I’m asking is, if you continue to live here, will it happen again?

“I don’t want to lie to you. Maybe. Probably. Not tonight, not tomorrow, but eventually. My kissing you again is a likely scenario.”

“You can stay.” She continued down the hall, into to her room “And, Mac?” She’d paused before closing the door.

“Yeah?”

“You are different.”

“Goodnight, Jennifer.”

“Goodnight.”

Beauty vs. power—a dangerous game with the heart as the prize…

For His Eyes Only

© 2009 Avery Beck

Jacey Cass radiates confidence and sensuality just once a year, when she meets her rich and powerful lover for a night of anonymous sex. The rest of her calendar is filled with the daily struggle to survive. Her cashier job at Insomnia, Miami’s hottest lingerie shop, doesn’t go far toward college tuition, but she’s determined to rise above her mother’s freeloading legacy.

Alex Vaughn is one promotion away from realizing his life’s ambition. For years he’s been forced to stand by and watch his father systematically destroy the values that made Insomnia great. Now, with an expected vacancy in the summer catalog, he takes a chance. He’s never formally met the fascinating woman he takes to bed every year, but he knows a marketable body when he sees one. The last thing he expects is for her to turn the opportunity down flat.

Jacey won’t consider a handout—even from the man whose white-hot caress is the one bright spot of her life. Then a modeling competition’s prize money lures her from behind the register and into the blinding spotlight, unaware of what the cost could be to her heart…

Warning: This title follows a young woman’s journey from fear of intimacy to trust in love, with frequent, explicit descriptions of the sensual lessons learned on the way.

Enjoy the following excerpt for For His Eyes Only:

They waited for the elevator. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck and kissed him, a chaste kiss appropriate for the public eye should anyone catch them. But when she pulled back and stared at him, the way her eyes darkened spoke volumes about the unchaste activities she expected to take place once they made it to his room.

Thankfully, the elevator doors closed before anyone else joined them. She slipped her arms inside his jacket, and the heat of her touch penetrated his shirt fabric while he pressed her to the wall, thrust his tongue into her mouth and ground his hips against hers.

“Well,” she teased when he rested the solid crotch of his pants against her thigh. “I can tell you’re ready.”

He closed his eyes, his hunger for her made almost unbearable by the taste of sweet wine she left on his lips. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be ready too.”

He put his hand beneath her skirt and trailed his finger along the satin edge of a soaking wet g-string, smothering her approving moan with another kiss. The ache in his groin intensified.

“I think you’re right,” she gasped when he let her go.

The doors opened. They greeted an older couple waiting to take the elevator and managed to maintain their composure until the door to his room locked behind them.

Then he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ve got to have you,” he insisted, expressing the thought that had plagued him all evening. He stepped up behind her and kissed the back of her neck, then lowered the zipper of her dress, his mouth following each tooth as it opened.

By the time he reached the zipper’s end, he was kneeling on the floor with the skinny strap of those panties right in front of him, urging him to tear the thing off. But he had just one night a year with her, and he wouldn’t end it within the first three minutes.